TR Glitches Reign: Calling from the Darkness
by Guardian105
Summary: There will be mild swearing and violence I'm sure; it's a cruel world. Taking a reviewer up on a suggestion.
1. No Rest for the Weary

**TwinRealms  
Glitches Reign  
Episode 003: Calling from the Darkness**

Date: Sometime mid-2002; Location: Dinotopia book-world, Unreality; Time: 3 PM

    Garanaa, the Champion and Guardian of Andus, rumbled softly as the creature below breathed its last. Its blood, black and thick, oozed from the neck-wound the Andusian had administered just seconds before.     Grunting, the Character gingerly stepped away from the Utahraptor insurgent, allowing it the peace of silence as she took stock of her situation. No one from any close village had been aware of the sounds of gunfire, a feat Guardian was sure GC was behind. That was perfectly fine, as the Andusian preferred to work just as inconspicuously as her 'creator.'     With the adrenaline of battle slowly ebbing, the dull pain of a wound made itself known in her left wing. Stretching the appendage, Garanaa immediately regretted doing so, uttering a quiet yelp as the tug produced a shooting pain throughout the fragile member.     _She_ may not be able to assess the damage, but her Center certainly could. Closing her eyes, she allowed her spirit-guide to enter her essence, increase her awareness. Within seconds the Andusian's fears were assuaged; merely superficial, the wound would heal in due time. Now all she had to do was . . .     "Hey Guard'," a familiar voice declared from behind.     Grunting in surprise Guardian whirled around, facing her young 'creator.' "Eruh, GC, I was originally under the impression that I would call when the mission had been completed."     "And that would have been case, were it not for what I've discovered." The late teenager awkwardly shifted her position in the dense, humid forest.     Guardian's eyes widened. "There be a problem?"     "Kindah-sortah. There's been another Glitch."     "What be the affected worlds?"     "If I'm right, and I've no reason to feel otherwise, Jurassic Park and Real—"     Garanaa rumbled. "The OtherRealm? GC you cannot be serious."     "Oh I am. And I'll tell you all about it when we get to our destination."     "And where might that be?"     GC did not yet answer; instead, she raised a hand, opening a vortex to an exquisite shoreline. "I'm gonna need you again; you with me on this one?"     This time it was Guardian's turn to remain silent. Her own decision was clear as she entered the portal. 


	2. A Much Needed Explanation

**Location: San Diego, California, Reality; Time: 2 PM**    GC grumbled as Static Shock suddenly gave way to WB's Breaking News. It had better be important, if it was taking time away from seeing Gear in all his coolness. The young teen sighed as she settled herself in; she'd watch a few minutes, and if she didn't see her animated buds it was off to the computer to get a shorter version of current events. The WB's news copter circled a nondescript middle class neighborhood; the only indicator that something was amiss was the numerous marked and unmarked police cars sitting around one particular house, their lights flashing. Swallowing back her anger, Carole leaned out from the couch, wondering what could possibly worry the San Diego police to the point that they set up a command center in the middle of Valley Suburbia . . . The answer hit GC like a brick found its way into her stomach. Someone else had been taken. Growling to herself, the young teen made herself sit and watch the proceedings. No child deserved to be taken from their home like that. Shaking her head, Carole listened as the WB correspondent 'sympathetically' listened to the parents make their desperate plea. She then announced that an AmberAlert had been issued, but with the detectives having yet found no traces of breaking-and-entering . . . GC stopped listening, her senses on high alert. With the house rotating in the picture, the Sentinel of Unreality was sure no one could possibly enter that house and leave it untouched. Something strange had happened, something Unreal. But she would have to do a little 'detective work' of her own to be sure. Rising from the couch, her eyes not leaving the television, Carole hastily made her way into the kitchen, grabbing a slip of paper from an old page-a-day calendar and a pen:

    _Mom –   
I'm keeping the television on; something tells me WB won't switch back to anything else anytime soon. You'll find out why I'm gone through that. I'll keep you posted as much as I can.     Carole
_

    Satisfied, Carole placed the note onto the kitchen table, where her mother would hopefully see it. Double checking the television one last time, GC closed her eyes, and let the phasing winds take her away. 


	3. Home Invasion

**Location: San Diego, California, Reality; Time: 2:01 PM**    GC opened her eyes, finding herself just blocks away from the sad scene currently taking place. She longed to just walk in and take note of what she needed, but she knew she would have to wait; only in Unreality could she throw that much weight around. Here, she was but another human being trying to eke out an existence on the poor planet.     The Sentinel narrowed her eyes as an idea popped into her brain. It was silly and hare-brained, but it just might work. Of course, it all relied on the idea that the San Diego five-oh really weren't all they cracked up to be.     Well, she could act, oh that much she was sure; wasn't taking care of angry customers with a smile at the store the same as acting? You wanted to shove a book down their throat, but you just smiled and nodded; if that wasn't acting, GC wasn't sure what could possibly _be_ acting.     Closing her eyes, Carole mouthed a silent prayer, asking for His protection if He believed she should have it at the time. Gulping, Carole took off towards the house, running for her life – or trying to make it seem that way.     Hiding wasn't part of her plan; the police and detectives saw her very early on. A few laid a hand across their standard-issue pistols, but apparently – and thankfully – saw the teenager as no threat. But maybe a suspect.     Slowing to an exaggerated stop, Carole bent at the stomach, grasping her shins, panting. A pair of officers flanked her, one helping her into a standing position. "Can we help you?" the second asked.     Eyes wide and wild, Carole answered shrilly, "I'm the babysitter! I'm supposed to be here –" checking her watch, she gulped in a breath of air and continued, "twenty minutes from now! I though I'd just turn on the news to see how the Recall election is going, and I see this!"     Her voice reaching an all-time high, Carole violently shoved her right arm towards the house, nearly slapping the officer who helped her stand. Realizing her folly, Carole gasped and slammed her hands over her mouth. "Ohh my gosh I'm so sorry sir!" she exclaimed.     The two officers shared a look, and then both turned to GC. "Why don't you just come with us; the detectives will want to ask you some questions."     Carole swallowed, but nodded; she had thrown herself in _this_ far; not wanting to speak with the detectives would not look good. "Geez those two must --- the poor kid . . ." The teen muttered to herself as the officers led her inside.     The house, despite the commotion outside, seemed relatively clean. White tile lined the main hallway, breaking into carpet on the left, where a wide couch faced a big-screen television. Ahead the tile continued in what appeared to be a kitchen, and it quickly became apparent that was the officers' destination. Quiet sobbing wafted from around a corner.     The officers led Carole into the kitchen, where detectives interviewed a male and female, the parents of the missing child. One of the officers tapped the nearest detective's shoulder, the one interviewing the mother, and mouthed 'babysitter.'     Nodding absently, the detective returned to his task at hand. The officers departed, muttering something about 'lousy detectives,' which the plain clothed men ignored.     Carole has just been left, completely unattended, at a crime scene. She would have grinned, but anyone watching would have suspected something.     Phase one was complete; now all that remained was to enter the child's room. Glancing between the detectives and the helpless parents, Carole slowly sidestepped a few centimeters.     No one seemed to notice.     GC shuffled to the side about a foot. Again, she was ignored.     This was too good to be true, but she had to take her chance. Turning, hoping her movements didn't seem awkward and therefore suspect, Carole caught glimpse of another hallway from the kitchen and made her way in that direction.     Neither the detectives nor the parents noticed Carole's own disappearance until she had nearly made it to the second hallway. Not interested in waiting for the questions she would most certainly be asked, Carole sprinted down the hallway.     "Hey, stop!" the father and one of the detectives ordered.     But Carole wouldn't stop; she couldn't, not now. The doors to each room had thankfully been left open, allowing the 'creator' to peek into each one as she rushed by. She still had not yet found the child's room, and footsteps doubtlessly belonging to the detectives and the parents were catching up to her.     Finally, at the end of the hallway, stood one doorway that offered a look into what had to have been the child's room. Carole jumped to the left and skidded into the room, the carpet preventing her from tumbling over. Slamming the door shut, Carole's eyes roved over the room.     Dinosaurs; they were everywhere, plush toys from theme parks, small models from the Carnegie collection, posters and prints of Dinotopia.     As soon as she made that distinction, Carole quickly made another: this child had phased.     The wild energy was everywhere; she couldn't see it, but she could certainly sense it, even without MU's gentle guidance. Yes, this child had phased, and now it was up to Carole to find her.     The footsteps pounded closer, reaching the child's room. The mother, God bless her, was now screaming in a desperate rage. Closing her eyes, Carole said quietly, "I'm gonna find your daughter."     Focusing upon a certain location, the phasing winds encircled GC's body, and she disappeared.     Seconds later, the door came crashing open, and the two detectives and the parents poured through. All four stared, wide-eyed, wondering if they had all really seen an adult female come into this room.     Traumatized, the mother's sobs burned in the ears of the three males. The father enveloped his wife in a fierce hug, tears streaming down his cheeks as well. 


End file.
